


The Annual Avalon Renaissance Faire

by orphan_account



Series: Merthur Drabbles [7]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Actually pretty light on merthur content, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, M/M, Renaissance Faires, This started as fluff but then it got dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-14 13:41:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4566699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur returns. Without Merlin to guide him, he stumbles around England blindly - into the annual Renaissance Faire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Annual Avalon Renaissance Faire

Arthur coughed and spluttered as he dragged himself to the shore, foul-tasting lake water erupting from his mouth. By some miracle, he’d found himself only a few meters from the shoreline, but he was surprised he hadn’t drowned under the weight of his armor. Reaching the sparse beach, he lay on his back, exhausted and breathing hard. The warm sun beat down on him, beginning to dry him off. After a minute’s rest, Arthur was already beginning to feel better, and sat up to take stock of his surroundings. The last thing he could remember was Merlin dragging him to the lake, an increasing cold spreading through his chest. But as he looked down, there was nary a scratch on his armor. Brow wrinkling in confusion, Arthur looked around, but his manservant was nowhere to be found.

 

“Merlin?” He called, getting to his feet. “ Mer lin!” Yet the raven-haired young man did not appear. As his voice echoed across the lake, he heard the distinctive hubbub of a crowd floating down the hills.  Maybe Merlin’s over there , Arthur reasoned, beginning the trek towards the colored banners floating in the distance.

 

A short while later, Arthur found himself at the outskirts of what appeared to be a small village.  I don’t remember any settlements being by Lake Avalon , he thought to himself, but shrugged and entered anyway. What he saw boggled his mind.

 

The village seemed to be taken over exclusively by merchants and vendors, all hawking leather products, trinkets, and assorted other baubles. Men and women alike were dressed in gaudy colors and styles that Arthur had never seen before, even in the furthest reaches of the Five Kingdoms. Here and there, a pair of wings sprouted from backs, and many signs advertised magic jewelry. Arthur wrapped his hand around Excalibur nervously. What had happened? Just how long of a time period had he forgotten?

 

Then, he spied a familiar black head bobbing through the crowd. Squeezing his way between a pair of particularly buxom barmaids, he placed a hand on the young man’s shoulder. 

 

“Merlin!” He cried with relief. “There you are, I’ve been-” But as the young man turned around, he revealed himself to be most undecidedly Merlin. Instead, his face was smeared with a liberal coating of mud, and he held a shell in one hand.

 

“Damn, nice job on the armor!” He said, grinning. “That’s some real dedication, man!”

 

“Yes, er, thank you, good peasant,” Arthur replied, wiping his hand on his leg with a grimace. “Tell me, could you give me directions towards Camelot? As you can see, I’ve become rather lost, and my manservant is nowhere in sight. There’s a gold coin in it for you, perhaps you can clean yourself up.” He wrinkled his nose slightly. Unbelievable, that peasants were allowed to mix with nobility in such a manner!

 

“Did you not get a map when you entered?” Asked the peasant. “There’s tons of ‘em, I don’t remember seeing a place called Camelot though.”

 

“That is no way to speak to your king!” Arthur replied indignantly, hand flitting back to Excalibur once more.

 

“Look, dude, I love the character dedication, but I’m sure King Harold or whoever the hell you’re supposed to be wasn’t this much of a douchebag,” said the young man, hands on his hips. “Now if you’re not here to have a good time and maybe get drunk, you shouldn’t have bought a ticket.”

 

Arthur began spluttering for the second time that day, but before he could draw his sword, a voice cried out, “Arthur!” Merlin ducked his way through the bustling throng, placing a hand on Arthur’s arm. 

 

“Really sorry about that, mate,” he said to the peasant. “My boyfriend plays  way  too much League, I told him that Ren Faire wasn’t meant for LARPing, but noooooooo, he has to go in character.” He rolled his eyes as he steered a protesting Arthur away from his would-be victim. “Good luck in the mud show!” He dragged Arthur into a more secluded, wooded area.

 

“Thank the gods you’re here, Merlin,” sighed Arthur, placing an affectionate hand on Merlin’s arm. “What the hell is going on? And what on  Earth are you wearing?”

 

Merlin looked down at his green tunic and long green hat in his hands. “It’s a costume,” he said sheepishly. “But never mind that, how did you end up here?”

 

“I was in the Lake,” Arthur said, “where you left me just now. Thanks very much for  that , by the way.”

 

“About that,” said Merlin, growing more serious. “I didn’t leave you there just now. You - you were  dead , Arthur.” To Arthur’s surprise, tears began to streak down his manservant’s face. “I sent you out onto the lake in a funeral boat.”

 

Arthur found himself unable to speak, his throat completely closed off. He sat down heavily, suddenly feeling light-headed. “I was...dead,” he croaked, when he found his voice again.

 

“Yeah,” said Merlin, sitting down next to him. “You were.” 

 

“For how long?”

 

Merlin looked at the sky, blowing out his cheeks. “About a thousand years, give or take. I stopped counting after a while.”

 

Arthur sat silently for a while, trying to absorb the information. One thousand years, the world had changed around him, while he and Merlin remained the same.

 

“And did you die too?” Asked Arthur, a sudden thought occurring to him. “Is this the afterlife?”

 

“Worse,” said Merlin grimly. “I’ve always been alive.” The implications of that statement hit Arthur like a blow to the gut. 

 

“So...if this is the real world, then everybody else is…?” He swallowed, throat dry again.

 

Merlin nodded morosely. Arthur closed his eyes, head in his hands. Faces swam past of his friends and loved ones, now all turned to dust in the ground. He let out a sob, then another, as the cumulative grief hit him all at once. Merlin placed an arm around his shoulders as Arthur shamelessly cried, the world around him condensing to the tree stump he was sitting on and Merlin’s arm on his back. 

 

“I know,” Merlin said quietly. “It’s a lot to take in. It was difficult for me too.” Arthur heard a clink as Merlin leaned his head on Arthur’s shoulder plate. 

 

“But I knew you would come back,” he whispered. “Kilgharrah was never wrong.”

 

Eventually, Arthur’s sobs subsided, and he began to feel a bit more like himself. Well, as much like himself as he could, being recently resurrected and thrown one thousand years into the future.

 

“So is the whole of the Five Kingdoms like...this?” He asked, gesturing to the ongoing festivities a short distance away.

 

“Not at all,” replied Merlin, shaking his head. “This is...like a costume party. Nobody dresses like this any more.”

 

Arthur nodded in consideration, wiping his cheeks. “Second question: what’s a boyfriend?”

 

Merlin pursed his lips, suddenly blushing. “It’s...it’s when you’re courting somebody, what you call the man,” he blurted in a rush.

 

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “And you told that peasant we were courting?”

 

“He’s not actually a peasant, he’s just dressed like one.”   
  


“Stop changing the subject,  Mer lin,” chided Arthur. “You know, that’s hardly appropriate to say about your king.”

 

“Well, we don’t look related and I just-”

 

“I never said I disapproved,” Arthur replied, smiling slightly. Merlin stole a sideways glance at him, but upon seeing he was serious, his eyes widened.

 

“B-but I thought, you and Gwen-” He stammered, searching Arthur’s face for an explanation.

 

“I did love Gwen, but I think she would’ve been happier with Lancelot,” Arthur said, becoming serious once again. “I guess dying really puts things in perspective.” He ruffled Merlin’s hair affectionately.

 

“You were closer than a brother to me, Merlin,” he said earnestly. “And I know I thanked you, but once more, you’ve done more for me than you can realize.”

 

“Does that mean-” Merlin asked breathlessly. Arthur raised a hand to cut him off.

 

“Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves, eh?” He suggested. “There’s a lot I need to get used to first.”

 

Merlin nodded. “I suppose it’ll be another adventure for us.”

 

“One more thing,” Arthur mused.

 

“Yes?”

 

“What’s LARPing?”

 

To his surprise, Merlin burst out laughing. “I’ll explain later, when it makes a bit more sense,” he said between chuckles. Arthur couldn’t help but grin at his infectious giggles, and soon the pair of them were laughing once more. Merlin grunted as he got to his feet, extending his hand toward Arthur.

 

“Come on, sire,” he said, blue eyes twinkling. “The new world awaits.”

 

Arthur took his hand, hauling himself up. “Let’s go see it then,” he whispered, stepping into the sunlight.

  
  
  



End file.
